CrissCross
by Independent Dude
Summary: Two super beings from different universes, each forbidden from intervening to save Earth, find a way to circumvent the short-sighted rules which restrict them.  One-shot.


Criss-Cross

(All Star Trek and Dr. Who characters in this story belong to their respective creators.)

The main chamber of the Starfleet outpost on Delta Vega stood unoccupied. After watching James T. Kirk beam away, Spock, had left to head to the base's subspace radio room with Montgomery Scott's little alien friend. As he had walked out of the room, the Vulcan had failed to notice the tall blue box mixed in with the rest of the discarded junk.

There was a creak, and then a door on the tall blue box opened. A man peeked his head out. At least, he looked like a human man. He had brown, unkempt hair, glasses, and goofy tennis shoes. He stepped all the way out of the blue box, letting the door close behind him. He looked around at the room, making sure no one else was there, and then glanced down at a pocket watch which he kept on a fob.

"You can come out now," he said loudly, to seemingly no one. "I think they've left."

There was a chime, and a flash. As the flash faded, a tall man in a red and black uniform appeared. This person also, to all outside appearances, looked like a middle-aged human man. The man had a receding mass of black hair and an arrogant smirk on his face. The man crossed over quickly to the blue box and stood next to the first man. And that was when the other man punched him.

"Ow!" said the newcomer, staggering backwards more out of shock than injury. "What the hell did you do that for?" He was so surprised that he did not even think to make the blood which had come out of his nose disappear.

"We had a deal, Q!" said the other, and then he grabbed the red-shirted man and threw him against the side of the box. "I agreed to help you, and you agreed to protect Earth!" He grabbed the alien named Q by the lapels and was about to slam him again into the box, when Q snapped his fingers and disappeared, only to reappear five meters away, his bloodied nose fully healed.

"Watch yourself, Doctor," said Q. "Even in this altered universe I am still way more omnipotent than you."

The timelord would have none of it, however, and he rounded on Q and charged right up to him, pointed finger blazing the way.

"You were supposed to help Earth fight the 456! You were supposed to stop the Winnowing from ever happening!"

"Which I did," stated Q, "or have you not been back to your dimension to check on _your_ precious Earth?"

"You did nothing of the sort!" fumed the Doctor. "It was Captain Jack Harkness who drove off the 456. And my God, man, the cost!"

"Ah, so _that's_ what you're on about," said Q, understanding the source of the Doctor's fury. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Tell me, Doctor, do the dozens of people who died in that government building mean less to you than the grandchild of one close friend? Or, for that matter, the thousands who died in worldwide riots when the panic was at its height? Or the six million children who did _not_ get taken aboard that alien ship this time around?"

The Doctor said nothing.

"Honestly, I had no idea that Harkness was going to figure that out," blurted Q, and the Doctor could sense that the super-being was indeed being candid. "Blasted human ingenuity! My carefully aimed solar flare was mere light-seconds away from smiting the 456 once and for all when that resonance pulse started. Good thing that everyone on Earth was so preoccupied, too, or some amateur astronomer would have seen me make a Category-5 coronal ejection do a U-turn on a dime.

"Come on, Doctor," continued Q, "You know your universe's history better than I. The 456 had no intention of taking ten percent of the Earth's children. That was a naked bluff. Their ship could only hold six, seven million at best. They didn't even have the manpower to sweep the planet for children to abduct: they forced humanity to do their logistical legwork for them, collecting the children into large groups to make up for their lack of transporter resolution. They waited just long enough until their energy cells were charged up, and then took the kids from the collection points nearest to London and worked their way outward. And all the while, your vaunted Timelord ethics prevented you from stepping in and putting a stop to it, because, to you, it was already history."

The Doctor was still silent, as he considered Q's words. It was true: the very nature of his Gallifreyan existence made it impossible for him to change events which had been fixed into the fabric of spacetime. And that was why he had made the deal.

"So what exactly _did_ you do to help?" the Timelord intoned evenly.

"I delayed them," said Q. "A blown conduit here, a broken power relay there, I had them running in circles. You'll note they had passed their self-imposed deadline for beaming up all the kids when Harkness' pulse went out…"

The Doctor tilted his head at his co-conspirator.

"Like I said," said Q, making a gun with his thumb and forefinger and shooting it, "light-seconds."

"And they're gone…for good?" asked the Doctor, remembering how many humans had been killed when the 456 had tried to return to Earth forty years later for a second helping. Mankind had beaten them back with hastily developed weapons, but not without casualties.

"When you're running away from a planet at twenty times the speed of light, there are a lot of things that can go wrong in a warp core. Especially if I want them to."

The Doctor shivered, not doubting that Q had done exactly what he had said. Not that he wouldn't have done the same thing to the 456 himself, if he had had the power. They were a right nasty bunch; not exactly the model citizens of his universe.

"Speaking of things going wrong…" said Q, jerking his head once in the direction of the sky.

Another flash of anger coursed through the Doctor, but he quickly bit it back. When he was able to reply, he was almost tearful.

"I tried to stop it, Q. But I had to make a choice. Kirk was falling to his death, along with that Sulu kid. I only had time to save them, or save the planet."

Q nodded sympathetically. "So you chose the option that would do the greatest good in the long run."

"Yes, damn you," said the Doctor. "I weighed everything, and realized that, even though one death seems trivial when compared to the destruction of an entire world, the loss of Jim Kirk would doom trillions of future galactic citizens to oblivion. For he and his crew will go on to save countless worlds, and protect the Federation from many more dangers than Nero."

The Doctor rounded on Q, fire still in his eyes. "Don't worry, Q. In eighty years, you'll still have your Jean-Luc to torment."

"Forgive me, Doctor," said Q, holding up a hand, "I meant no sarcasm. I just thought you were a little quick to judge my methods, that's all. By the way," said the omnipotent being, "aren't you about seven years off in your timing?"

The Timelord welcomed the change in subject. "Nero's arrival changed all the worldlines in this universe. I was left with only a small window of opportunity to get the crew of the _Enterprise_ together, and I took it." He crossed over to his TARDIS and began fumbling for his door key. "It took years of hard work to even accomplish that."

The Doctor's eyes glazed over, and he momentarily stopped fishing in his jacket pocket as he remembered.

He remembered posing as a high school fencing coach, giving a well-placed piece of career advice to a young man named Hikaru.

He remembered dog-napping a beagle, and using a piece of psychic paper to forge the transfer orders for the engineer who had until just now been commanding this outpost.

He remembered using several sheets of psychic paper to forge an Academy application for the Russian kid – that kid was smart as the dickens, but good lord, he couldn't write an essay to save his life!

He remembered taking a young southern belle aboard the TARDIS for a few months as a traveling companion, just long enough for her to develop the wanderlust that would one day cause her to leave her workaholic doctor husband.

He remembered just what personal demons Uhura was running from, and wondered if even Q knew the full story of her past.

He remembered having a drink with Chris Pike, and suggesting that the tall, friendless Vulcan would make a great first officer.

And Kirk? He remembered not having to do anything with Kirk. Kirk had gravitated to Starfleet all on his own. And that part had been a little scary, quite frankly.

"Quite a bit of effort," repeated the Doctor, as he found his key and opened the TARDIS door. "I think the Vulcan suspects," he said, thumbing in the direction Spock and Keener had gone. "I heard him mumbling under his breath something about 'destiny' and 'fascinating,' or some such."

"Yes, Spock does possess one of this universe's more formidable intellects, no matter from which side of the time stream he comes" said Q, with a noticeable hint of admiration in his voice. "I'm not so much worried about him finding out, though, as I am about the other members of the Continuum," he said, looking furtively around the cavernous room, as if at any moment expecting another Q to come popping into existence to call him on his subterfuge. "They have this silly taboo about meddling in the affairs of lesser beings, and since I've already gotten caught enough times doing just that, I know that their wrath is not something I want to incur again if I can help it."

"Right," said the Doctor, and he too was anxious to get back to the safety of the TARDIS' null space. He didn't know if Q could survive the wrath of his Continuum brethren, but he knew damn well that he wouldn't last very long.

"Well then," said Q, giving a mock bow to his companion. "Doctor, I wish to thank you for your help in realigning my universe. If there is nothing more to be done, then I consider us well met."

"Oh, just one thing," said the Timelord. He went into the TARDIS and came out, holding a fat beagle in his hands, which he handed to Q. "I believe this belongs in your universe." Then he ducked quickly back into his time machine, shut the door, and within seconds was dematerializing to head back to his own universe.

Q just stood there, holding the Admiral's dog as far out in front of himself as he could, as if it were radioactive.

"What are you looking at?" he told the beagle, wondering how he was going to keep it hidden from the Continuum until he could get it back to its rightful owner.


End file.
